A phone call startled me out of my reverie.
I’d been busying myself in the kitchen, squirrelled away inside my home, dreaming, in a way you can only do in a calm before a storm. The trill of the phone shook my fingertips. I almost dropped the oven tray.
It’s not good news. It’s not bad news. It’s the in-between type.
Things could be better, but they could be very, very worse.
I choose to see the bright side.